


Drinking Salted Water

by MistressofHappyEndings



Series: Orphans of the World [1]
Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Episode Tag: The Night of the Camera, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressofHappyEndings/pseuds/MistressofHappyEndings
Summary: Kissing is like drinking salted water. You drink, and your thirst increases. – Chinese Proverb





	Drinking Salted Water

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my best friend, Painted_Glass, and I were marveling once again at the wonder that is the "Wild, Wild West" TV series and finally decided to watch some of the episodes without Artemus, something that we had avoided previously ... and promptly fell in love with Jeremy Pike. There's just something about the character and Charles Aidman's portrayal of him that made us both like him ... a lot. So, though the obvious OTP in this fandom is Jim and Arte, we thought that maybe, just maybe, there was room for one more. We've put together a series of loosely connected stories for these wonderful gentlemen. This is the first one. We hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. BTW, both Painted_Glass and I spell Arte's name this way because that's how the episode summary list in our boxed set spells it, and we decided that we liked it. Also, since Jim calls Jeremy Pike "Jerry" a lot, we rolled with that as well.

******************************************************************************************************************************************* 

“You were right, Jerry. I think we did underestimate Cranston.” 

The two men chuckled at their own misguided assumptions as they moved away from the window, Jeremy to the sofa and Jim to the decanter of brandy. Jim poured two glasses and sank down on the couch next to his partner, close enough so that they were pressed lightly against one another all along that side. A small, delighted smile flitted across the younger man’s lips when Jerry made no move to shift away from the contact. He instead moved just a fraction closer into Jim’s warmth when he stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. They softly clinked the glasses together and sipped on their drinks in quiet companionship. 

They’d come a long way since their reunion on the Loveless Nursery Rhyme case. 

Before then, before Arte and Jim had been paired together full-time, Jim and Jeremy had worked on several other cases. Jim had always enjoyed working with the older man. Other temporary partners had found Jim’s style a bit too much to take or to keep up with, but not Jerry. He was smart, intuitive, and completely willing to throw himself alongside Jim into whatever insanity was necessary to get the job done. 

Respect and admiration for each other’s talents had sparked a more visceral attraction between them, one that had simmered just beneath the surface of their daily interactions. Neither man had had the courage to act upon it, though, each contenting themselves with the other’s friendship, since more had seemed impossible. At least, that’s how Jim had felt. Jeremy had played it close to the vest, following Jim’s lead without once pushing for more. 

In spite of that, Jim had thought to ask for Jerry as a more permanent partner, but Grant had needed them both on separate, long-term cases, and by the time they had each finished, Arte had been assigned to Jim. That partnership was never going to be something Jim was going to regret; Arte had completed him in ways both professionally and personally that he hadn’t even known he’d needed. Neither had Arte been afraid to act upon the attraction that had flared up between them as well, and he had known how to teach his inexperienced young partner in the art of loving a man. 

But Jim had wondered on occasion what it would have been like if it had been Jerry with him all those years, or better yet, if it could have been all three of them together. Arte had noticed – of course he had – and had finally asked him about his daydreaming while they had lazed together one hot summer afternoon in the cooling shadows of a grove of oak trees. Feeling guilty for such silly fantasies when he had everything he’d ever wanted right there beside him, Jim nonetheless couldn’t lie to Arte and confessed his fascination for the other agent. 

Instead of the anger he’d expected, Arte had turned to him with a stunned look on his face. He had then burst out laughing. Jim had stared at him like he’d gone mad until Arte had calmed enough to profess the same fascination with one Jeremy Pike. 

“At least I know you’ll understand where the attraction came from, Jim,” Arte had said between intermittent chuckles. 

He’d gone on to regale Jim with the tale of how he’d met Jeremy on a case and soon came to admire him, both for his skill as an agent and as a handsome man. Arte had admired Jeremy so much, in fact, that he had begun to flirt outrageously with him, something that Jeremy had apparently not objected to, and even occasionally flirted back. Arte had gone on to give him the exclusive nickname of “Remy” and had eventually managed to coax him into a lovely, passionate kiss. 

According to Arte, Jeremy hadn’t rejected him outright after that kiss, so he’d hoped that there had been a chance for something more. He, too, would have loved to pursue something more with Jeremy, but again, separate assignments had come between them, and the opportunity had been lost. Jim had inwardly cursed himself for his cowardice. Perhaps if he had spoken sooner, Jeremy would be with them now. 

“What are the odds, Jim, that we both had such a man in our grasp and both lost him?” Arte had mused, pulling the smaller man in close and dropping a kiss onto a bare shoulder. “Not that I’m disappointed with how things worked out, you understand, but if we ever get the chance again, how do you feel about seeing how amenable to our kisses he is these days?” 

Jim had agreed, though he’d secretly doubted that chance would ever happen. Yet here Jerry sat beside him now, curled in his one-armed embrace as if he’d always belonged there. The only thing that would make this evening more perfect was if Arte were here with them. 

While Arte wasn’t with them in body, he was definitely with them in spirit. Jim had several letters hidden away in a secret compartment in his bedroom from his lover granting him enthusiastic permission to try and seduce the other man while he was gone. Along with the permission, however, had come an admonition to proceed with caution and gentleness. Arte’d had a few brief hours with Jeremy before he’d had to leave for Washington, and even while under the sharp eyes of Colonel Richmond, he’d noticed differences in the other agent. 

_Remy is an orphan of the world,_ Arte had written. _He hasn’t had anyone to rely on – no family, no sweetheart, no partner – for years. It’s changed him from when we’ve last seen him. He needs gentleness and understanding from us first before we can give him our love. The best things in life should be savored, James my boy, and Remy is definitely one of the best. Treat him as such, and I guarantee that all of us will thoroughly enjoy the end results._

Jim had proceeded to do as his partner instructed, and the results so far had, indeed, been enjoyable. He hadn’t taken this much time to woo someone … ever – Arte had done most of the wooing between the two of them – and the savoring of their courtship had been and still was something he treasured. 

It hadn’t all been smooth sailing. There had been a few missteps along the way as he tried to learn what would make Jerry at ease with him enough to pursue a romance. Life as a solo agent had made the man he had once known more guarded of heart and more world-weary of soul, and he had been wary of any advances Jim made. It didn’t help that he had quickly deduced the true nature of Jim and Arte’s partnership, and he’d had no desire to interfere with that. Other fears lurked in those dark blue eyes, but Jerry had remained stubbornly silent as to what they were. 

It had taken several letters of his own from Artemus before Jerry had relaxed enough to accept that he wasn’t going to ruin what the two men already had. Jim didn’t know how Arte had managed that miracle, but his lover had always been a silver-tongued devil and usually got his way. Jeremy had slowly succumbed to Jim’s careful advances enough to share some pleasurable days and nights between their cases. They hadn’t done anything too elaborate yet, both wanting to wait for Arte before going any further, but it was still wonderful to be able to greet Jerry in the morning with kisses and caresses readily returned and to sleep with him more often than not curled up in Jim’s own bed. 

Unless, of course, they had visitors … 

Setting his half-empty glass down on the table in front of them, Jim turned to face the other man. “Are you disappointed?” 

Jeremy lowered his glass from his lips. He had seen that look before on Jim’s face, and he felt his own breathing start to speed up in anticipation. “Disappointed, Jim? What do you mean?” 

“Well, you did mention something about feminine companionship …?” 

“Aw, c’mon, Jim,” Jeremy sighed, “you know that was for Cranston’s benefit, and besides, we did kind of owe the man after the way we treated him. I don’t know how we would have solved this case without him. But truth be told,” He tilted his head so that it rested on the arm Jim had placed on the back of the couch and smiled up at the other man, “I am not at all disappointed with how my evening is going. Are you?” 

”Why would I be? I have an old friend right here who is quite intelligent and can speak with amazing erudition on a wide-range of subjects.” Jim punctuated each trait with nibbling kisses along the slender line of Jeremy’s jaw and neck. “He’s also gorgeous, brave, and just my kind of crazy. Compared to that, who needs the Gaffney sisters?” 

Jim crowded further into Jerry’s space and raised his head until his lips hovered just over the other man’s mouth. “The only real question left is how far you want to go tonight?” 

“You do know that Cranston will be back at some point tonight?” Jeremy cautioned half-heartedly. He wanted this, too, God did he ever, but he wasn’t about to expose either of them to a scandal when it could be easily avoided. Cranston would be gone tomorrow morning. He could wait until then, no matter what the baser parts of him were screaming. 

Jim, however, wasn’t to be deterred. “Yes, I am aware, but he’ll be gone for a couple of hours for dinner at least.” He moved his hand to settle at the nape of Jerry’s neck, his fingers lightly tugging and stroking at the curls there in a way he knew Jerry liked. Jim’s green eyes darkened, and his voice lowered into a rougher timbre, at the tiny sigh the older man gave at this gesture. 

“I’ve missed this,” he whispered, tugging a little harder on the soft curls so that their lips were touching with every word he spoke, “I’ve missed _you_. We’ve been working so hard on this case that we haven’t really had time for each other, have we? I wasn’t thinking anything complicated; I’d just like to be able to hold you and kiss you for a bit. I promise, once Cranston leaves, that I’ll spend hours making your body sing, but right now, I’ll settle for just that.” 

Jeremy’s resolve wavered at his words, common sense warring with desire. They really shouldn’t … then Jim closed that last little distance between them and took his mouth with the gentle intensity he’d become accustomed to over their months together, their tongues tangling sweetly in the kind of duel neither could lose. Jeremy shuddered as Jim pulled back slightly to pepper his lips with soft kisses, paying attention to the upper and lower lips separately, worshipping his mouth. With an inward sigh of surrender, he gracefully gave into the expert ministrations. 

“Go lock the door, then,” he said hoarsely, putting just enough distance between them to deliver the order because he couldn’t force himself to move any further away than that. He had _missed_ Jim, too. “I don’t want any surprises tonight, just you.” 

Jim gave him a sweet, wild grin, catching his mouth in another scorching kiss before reluctantly disentangling himself from Jerry’s embrace. He moved swiftly across the room to flick the lock closed and, after a moment’s thought, turn off the gaslights. The only light came from the fireplace, casting warm, intimate shadows over the room, perfect for the mood settling between them. With a nod of satisfaction, Jim turned back to his waiting lover. He felt his breath leave him in a rush of desire and appreciation. 

The firelight flickered in golden-orange bursts across Jerry's features, bronzing his skin and weaving red highlights into his hair. Jim already knew that his partner was handsome, but it seemed the flames agreed with him, softening the lines around his dark blue eyes and dancing over his red, slightly kiss-swollen lips. Best of all, though, was the look of welcome on Jerry’s face, and the hand held out to him, beckoning him to come back. 

In that moment, Jim wished he had Cranston’s photographic abilities, so that the sight of his lover by firelight could be forever imprinted in his memories. But he didn’t, so he’d just have to find other ways to make this a lasting memory. Wasting no more time in heeding Jerry’s invitation, Jim moved back to the couch with alacrity. But instead of taking the seat next to Jerry as he had before, he straddled the other man’s lap and braced himself against the back of the sofa with hands on either side of the Jerry’s head. Jerry looked briefly startled, his own hands instinctively grasping at Jim’s sides to keep him balanced on his perch. 

Jim smiled down at him and playfully rubbed noses with him. “Hi.” 

Jeremy huffed out a laugh at the younger man’s antics. Sweeping a hand up to catch at the back of Jim’s head, he pulled him down for a deep and thorough kiss. Jeremy delved into Jim’s mouth, tracing the shape of his teeth, tickling against his palate, savoring the taste of brandy and Jim in the other man’s mouth. He pushed with tongue and teeth until Jim was panting, hands roaming restlessly on Jeremy’s arms and shoulders, his thighs tightening to keep them pressed together from hip to mouth. Jeremy arched up into the embrace to do the same, his eyes half-masted with lazy victory when he finally allowed the kiss to break. 

With a satisfied smirk, Jerry declared, “ _That’s_ how you say hello.” 

“Is that so?” Jim answered a little breathlessly. 

His fingers traced nonsense patterns over the warm muscles of Jerry’s shoulders and back, the yellow cotton so smooth beneath his palms, cool despite the proximity to Jerry's flesh. Jim always ran hot himself, was sweating even now from the warmth of the fire and his need for the other man. Curling into Jerry’s cooler body did nothing to stem his desire but still felt so good, even through layers of intervening cloth. This close, the scent of his partner’s aftershave and the more alluring male scent of Jerry himself filled his nostrils. Moaning a little, Jim couldn’t help but bend his head to nuzzle behind Jerry’s ear and draw more of that scent into his lungs. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Jerry rumbled an answer as he tilted his head to grant Jim greater access to sensitive skin. He let his hands fall from Jim’s neck, one outlining the curve of Jim’s body on the way down and letting the other drop to his partner’s thigh. His fingers kneaded the taut muscles there in a thoughtless rhythm, his thumb dragging in short sweeps along the crease where leg joined torso. 

“Well, then,” Jim murmured, laying a trail of nipping kisses down to the bared hollow of his throat. He was sorely tempted to bite down harder there and leave a mark for all to see and know that this man was taken. While this might gratify his possessive nature, he didn’t think Jerry would appreciate it. He settled instead for nosing the unbuttoned collar further open and sucking a light red mark on Jerry’s collarbone, one that would fade fast but settled his need to claim for now. “I could stand for you to say hello more often. I’m sure Arte will be delighted with all the hellos, too, once he’s back.” 

Though slight, Jim felt the hesitation in Jerry’s body before he melted further under Jim’s caresses, a hint of uncertainty that the other man tried so hard to hide. No matter how much time they’d spent together, no matter how many letters Arte’d written to him, Jerry still didn’t really believe that he was anything more than a stand-in for Arte in this as well as professionally. It hurt something deep in Jim to know that this wonderful man had been so isolated and uncared for that he was willing to accept second-hand devotion from someone he felt would toss him aside the moment his “true love” returned just to steal a few moments of affection for himself. 

Jim didn’t want Jerry to feel like a thief. He wanted him to feel cherished, wanted in every sense of the word, an equal partner in what he and Arte shared, and wanted to share with him. Frustration welled up in him that he didn’t have the right words to convince Jerry of their sincere interest and desire for him. But he’d never had Arte’s or Jerry’s finely-tuned gifts of persuasion, had too often relied on the strength of actions, not speech, to accomplish his goals. So instead of useless words, Jim did what came naturally. 

He acted. 

Raising up on his knees, he traced the angle of Jerry's cheek with a single finger, then over the bridge of his nose, the delicate lids of his eyes when the other man obligingly closed them. He lingered over the rough stubble along Jerry’s jaw, running his fingertips in little back and forth sweeps until they tingled with the sensation, before moving on to the soft curves of his eyebrows. He ran his palms down the sides of Jerry's throat, traced the tendons and arteries back up to the underside of his jaw, curling his hands around the vulnerable column for just a moment to feel the precious beat there. 

An unbidden moan escaped Jim when Jerry let his head fall back into his gently restraining grip, baring his throat further in a gesture of perfect trust in the man who held him fast. The swell of Jerry’s Adam’s apple bobbed against the heels of Jim’s hands when he swallowed heavily in response to Jim’s vocalization, but his blue eyes remained closed and his body pliant to whatever his lover had planned next. Jim slid one hand to the back of Jerry’s head to tangle his fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck once more, the other he trailed up the sensitive skin of his neck to knock his knuckles lightly against Jerry's chin then stroked his thumb over his lower lip. He hummed in approval when Jerry laved his tongue over the digit but resisted when the other man tried to draw him down for a proper kiss. 

Jeremy let out a little sound of disappointment at being denied, a _wanting_ sound that made Jim want to climb straight into him and push _deeper_ , to see if he could tease out more of the same. He reined himself back with all the restraint he was renowned for. Tonight, he had promised simple. Tonight, he would shower his lover with all the gentleness he possessed, bend his every action to show Jerry how much he loved him, not just desired him. Tomorrow – tomorrow would be soon enough for passion. 

Where his hands had caressed before, Jim now followed the same meandering paths with his lips and tongue. He paused every now and then to blow lightly over the damp skin just to feel the tremble it caused in the man beneath him. He turned his head to add little rasps of his stubble along the taut tendons followed by long, wet strokes of his mouth, loving the sounds Jerry made for him. He played between the two, listening as the gasps increased in pitch and the groans began to deepen into full-body shudders, until Jerry was almost panting with enjoyment. Jim smiled against his skin and kissed his way up to one ear. He mouthed at the lobe before biting down delicately. 

The bite pushed Jerry from passivity into action. He made no move to hinder Jim’s actions, twisting sinuously to get Jim’s mouth where he wanted it, but he couldn’t sit idle under his caresses any longer. He pressed kisses of his own to any part of Jim he could reach, his hands moving with restless abandon over the younger man’s lithe form, much as Jim had done to him earlier. He got rid of his vest then tugged at the back of Jim’s shirt until he wrestled enough of it out of those ridiculously tight pants Jim insisted on wearing to be able to skim his palms underneath it. He tugged lightly at the fur on his belly then slid his hands around his waist and upward, tracing the bumps of his spine one at a time from the small of his back to the nape of his neck and back down again. Jim arched into his touch and moaned open-mouthed against the hinge of his jaw when Jeremy added the light scrape of his fingernails on his next pass. 

Pulling himself out of the sensual haze Jerry seemed determined to drown him in, Jim stopped his own gentle assault when he once again reached the opened shirt at the base of Jeremy’s throat. Jim plucked at Jeremy's collar, then, flicked open another button or two, enough to slide his fingers under the starched cotton and touch the bare skin beneath. He hesitated at the slight roughness he found, knowing it was there but still feeling a little shock every time, and looked up at Jerry. 

“Can I?” he asked quietly. 

Jeremy studied him in silence for a handful of heartbeats. He knew what Jim was asking for. It had become a habit for the young man ever since the first time he’d gotten Jeremy shirtless. He didn’t understand the intense need Jim seemed to have for this; but overall, it was a harmless obsession, and it made Jim happy. It also felt amazing, not just the physical sensations, but the knowledge of being the sole focus of Jim’s attention, even if only for a few, fleeting minutes. He slowly slid his hands down to settle over Jim’s hips and nodded his assent. 

Even as he set his fingers to undoing the last of his lover’s buttons, Jim brushed a kiss over the crest of one of Jeremy’s cheekbones in thanks. He leaned back when he slipped the last button loose and pushed shirt and vest over strong shoulders until the fabric pooled in the crooks of Jeremy’s elbows, baring the full expanse of his torso to Jim’s view. The sight of the lightly muscled, lightly furred chest was deserving of all appreciation, and Jim took a moment to do exactly that, raking his gaze over the bare skin littered here and there with the marks of their trade, his eyes darkening with pleasure at what he saw. But Jim’s attention swiftly narrowed to one mark in particular carved into the left side of Jeremy’s chest. 

It should have been ugly, that gnarled twist of pale pink tissue carving a razor-straight path for at least two inches beneath the nipple. It _was_ ugly, in point of fact, a stern reminder of a blade slammed home into Jeremy’s body years ago that was meant to snuff out the life of this courageous man, a blade wielded by a monster who was a master of his craft. The monster, one Max Vonner, had already killed the first and only permanent partner Jeremy had ever had, and he never left any witnesses behind. 

Jim brushed reverent fingers over those scant inches of marred flesh. 

Vonner had aimed for Jerry’s heart, and he had struck as true as ever. If Jerry had been any other man, he would have been just another in a long line of victims. Instead, in a miraculous quirk of biology, his heart was located on the right side of his chest instead of the left. The blade had sunk deep, scoring his lung, an injury that even to this day made him more susceptible to pneumonia and other lung ailments, but it had not killed him. After he had roused from the shock of the blow, Jerry had somehow managed to stagger back to town, dagger still in his chest, and get help. In a stroke of the purest luck, the local doctor had a friend from the East visiting that week, a surgeon of some renown, for the blade had been especially designed by Vonner to do more damage coming out than going in. It had taken both doctors and hours of surgery to successfully remove it. 

When he recovered from the anesthesia, the report Jerry had sent to Washington had brought down Vonner and his entire organization. He’d been hailed a hero, but from that day forward, Jeremy had insisted on working alone, unwilling to put himself in the position of possibly losing another partner so brutally. That is, until Arte had specifically asked for him to watch Jim’s back while he couldn’t do it himself. He’d answered that call readily enough. 

Jim slid out of Jeremy’s lap to kneel before him. At the slightest of touches to the inside of one knee, the other man wordlessly spread both to allow Jim as close as possible. Jim met Jeremy’s dark gaze, his fingers tracing lightly over the raised flesh, his other hand trailing over the unblemished skin on his right side. Jerry held his gaze as he stayed still under the delicate touches, letting Jim take what he needed from the moment. 

Jim gave him a small smile of gratitude before he rose up on his knees to set his lips onto the scar. He sucked softly against the puckered flesh, and laved his tongue over the skin, and pressed his teeth down just hard enough so that Jeremy could feel it through the deadened tissue. Jerry shivered against him. A surge of protectiveness hit Jim at the tiny motion, and he gathered the slender torso just that much closer, curling over Jerry into a shielding embrace. His eyes fell shut as he concentrated on loving the proof of Jerry’s survival. 

He kept at it for long, savoring moments, willing Jerry to feel everything he couldn’t find the words for. His reward came in the form of a hum vibrating against Jim’s sensitized lips; Jerry’s pleased, almost-purr he sometimes made when he was content. It took more doing to coax that sound from the older man than it did to make him moan, and Jim found himself inordinately pleased with himself for accomplishing it now. He nuzzled at the scar one last time, one last row of tiny kisses pressed along its length, then he rested his ear against the other man’s chest so he could listen to the steady, reassuring thud of Jerry’s heart. 

The two men remained in this position for quite some time with only the sound of the crackling fire and their own breathing to break the peaceful silence that had descended over them. Jim slowly realized that Jeremy was stroking his head, gentling him. Jim turned his head and kissed at the soft skin of Jerry’s chest, any part he could reach, just to feel and taste the aliveness of him. Jerry purred for him again, so Jim did it over and over, for a long time. Body nestled between Jerry’s strong thighs, head cradled in his long fingers, Jim felt a deep sense of rightness and contentment settle over him, and his own version of a purr left him in a small sigh. 

Jim’s knees had begun to ache faintly by the time Jerry finally stirred under him. Jim felt his warm breath tickle against the sensitive skin of at his temple as Jerry smoothed one hand from Jim’s hair to curve around the side of his face. Jim leaned into it, utterly incapable of doing anything else, and looked up into shadowed blue eyes. 

“Come here, James,” Jerry commanded in a low, deep rumble. 

Jim shivered and swiftly obeyed. Pushing himself from the floor to slide back into Jerry’s lap, Jim ducked down to capture the other man’s mouth in a tender kiss. Jeremy opened sweetly to him, and they kissed and kissed, until Jerry made a little sound of frustration. Impatiently, he slid his palms once more under the younger man’s shirt, pulling away from Jim’s lips just long enough to yank the offending garment over his head until he, too, was naked from the waist up. 

He took a moment to admire the view as Jim had earlier before curving his arms around his lover once more, settling one thumb naturally into one of the notches of Jim’s spine like it belonged there, reeling him in more closely. Jeremy gasped, and Jim moaned at the first touch of so much bare skin against bare skin. Moving against each other slowly, luxuriantly, they could feel the other’s arousal, but neither felt inclined to do anything about it, greedy for something more than just physical satisfaction tonight. They let time dwindle away as they exchanged lazy, open-mouthed kisses between whispered words of care and praise. 

The chime of the clock on the mantle announcing the late hour startled them apart. They turned as one to look at the timepiece and were surprised further to discover that two hours had slipped by unnoticed. It had been time well, if swiftly, spent. Jim shifted his gaze back to the man beneath him when the chiming ended and had to revise his earlier wish. 

He wanted Cranston’s abilities for _this_ moment. 

Here, now, was how he wished to forever remember Jerry – hair tousled from Jim’s fingers, his lips swollen from Jim’s kisses, his heart beating fast under Jim’s hand from Jim’s caresses. With his shirt and vest still caught at his elbows, his chest bared to the firelight, he presented the perfect picture of a man well-loved, and Jim didn’t want to ever forget this moment. The soft, devouring look in Jerry’s eyes made the younger man think that maybe Jerry was feeling the same way. 

Jeremy reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jim’s forehead before pressing a kiss to the same spot. “We need to get up, Jim. Cranston will be back soon, and blind as he is, even he can’t mistake what we’ve been up to.” 

Jim growled a little at the thought of anyone, let alone Cranston, walking in on them just now. No one but Arte and himself was ever going to get to see Jerry looking like this ever again, if he had anything to say about it. He belonged to them alone, and they to him. 

Jeremy arched a surprised eyebrow at him. “Jim? You okay?” 

Jim shook his head as he tried to dispel the sudden wave of possessiveness swamping him. Jerry wasn’t theirs yet. He hadn’t committed to anything, and in any case, Jim didn’t own him. No one did. Jerry was his own man, no matter if he decided to stay with Jim and Arte or not. 

“Sorry, Jerry, must be more tired than I thought.” 

Jeremy opened his mouth, no doubt to call him on the obvious falsehood, but the unmistakable sound of a carriage drawing up beside the train derailed him. He narrowed his eyes at Jim, a silent promise that he would be pursuing this later, but he let the younger man pull him to his feet. Their fingers meshed one with the other’s, and neither let go as Jim led them through the dim car to their sleeping compartments. 

They reached the matched set of closed doors just as the rattle of keys in the caboose’s lock sounded through the empty car. Jeremy reluctantly released Jim’s hand and pushed open the door leading to his lonely room. Before he could step inside, Jim turned him with a hand on his shoulder and caught his mouth in one last, chaste kiss. 

“Jim …” he murmured tiredly. 

“Sssh,” Jim quieted him, running the back of his hand down one cheek before stepping back, “just wanted to say good-night properly. I’ll see you in the morning, love. Dream sweet.” 

With these words, Jim disappeared into this own room and shut the door with a soft click, unaware of the tumult he’d left behind him. Jeremy stared after him in shock. 

Love? 

_Love?!_


End file.
